


ritardando, con dolcezza

by tennisnotensai



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Self-indulgent fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 03:25:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19098790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tennisnotensai/pseuds/tennisnotensai
Summary: It was probably going to be his worst birthday since dating Allen.





	ritardando, con dolcezza

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** OOCness, English is not my first language, inconsistent tenses, not beta'd, self-indulgent fluff, sexual situations
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** No copyright infringement intended.
> 
>  **A/N:** I wrote this while thinking about that Yullen Nodame Cantabile AU that I had to stop writing because it was giving me so much stress. So any references to classical music is that unfinished fic's fault. And I like to listen to classical music but I know shit about it, so please correct me if you spot any errors.  
> Also I love fluff. Sue me.

It was probably going to be his worst birthday since dating Allen.

The last time Kanda had spent time with Allen was three fucking weeks ago, and these days, he only ever saw Allen at ass o'clock in the morning when he's woken up by the urge to pee. He'd wake up to find Allen clinging to him like an octopus and he'd find it hard to extricate himself from those limbs, but he really needed to pee so he'd reluctantly leave and then return to bed, puling Allen closer to him. When he wakes up, it's either Allen is already gone or Allen was still sleeping, but Kanda needed to leave.

He was a graduating conducting student and Allen was a graduating piano student, and with their graduation concerts coming up, there was simply no time just sit down and be with each other. Having graduated from the piano programme two years ago, Kanda knew all too well the stress that the concert brought, especially with the top pianist of the batch having the privilege of performing a solo. Kanda was the top pianist of his batch and Allen was his. He could remember the strain it brought on their relationship, and now that Allen was in the same boat, he couldn't even get mad at him, except for maybe not sleeping in favour of practising.

The day before his birthday, when Kanda's rehearsal just got finished, Allen called him, asking if he could get him from the studio. All the practise rooms and auditoriums in the uni were booked so Allen and the orchestra he'll perform with rented a studio across town, which required him to take the train. They already reserved rooms in the uni in advance, but with everyone's graduation performances coming up, sometimes, there's just no room to practise in.

Their schedules didn't match and he hasn't seen Allen properly in three weeks, so Kanda didn't think twice before boarding the train to get to him. The exhaustion in Allen's voice made Kanda rush to him, even if he himself was dead tired.

"Sorry for calling you all the way here," Allen said before yawning. Kanda was tired too, but Allen looked worse. He looked like he was one second from falling face-first on the street.

"I'll get us a cab," Kanda said, taking his phone from his pocket. Allen had to hug him sideways just so he could stay upright, and so Kanda let him. Kanda, who was also tired, would do the same if he hadn't been afflicted by a nasty case of hubris.

Maybe they shouldn't have pushed themselves too hard, but if there was anything they had in common, it was their dedication to their craft. (No matter what Kanda's brother Marie always said, they were _not_ similar.)

When their cab arrived, Kanda shoved Allen inside, and not one second passed before Allen turned him into a pillow a fell into an excruciatingly short sleep.

 

\--

 

Allen was holding on to Kanda, barely keeping his eyes open. Kanda led him through the station, from the ticketing office to the queue for the train doors, all the while Allen clutched Kanda's arm, his eyes shut more often than open.

He was beat-up. Maybe he shouldn't have stayed up late practising for three weeks and substituted caffeine for sleep and then went straight to rehearsals, but he did. He felt bad for asking Kanda, equally exhausted as him, to take him home, but Allen barely had the energy to keep his eyes open let alone go home on his own. Of all the days this could happen, of course his body picked up the day that he was across the city to fall apart. He could have asked his fellow performers to see him home, but really, he just wanted an excuse to see Kanda, especially with the sourpuss's birthday coming up.

But he had no one to blame but himself for being barely able to walk. Kanda had told him plenty of times to eat and get enough rest, but this was going to be one of the most important performances in his life and Allen didn't want to screw it up.

He had performed publicly several times in the past before, but even though he received accolades and Allen had garnered a reputation of his own, there were still some who couldn't see him past Maestro Cross Marian's apprentice. He was more than his master's apprentice and he had already proven that. He just needed to prove it again to shut the naysayers up.

Surprisingly, in Allen's almost-unconscious state, Kanda didn't say anything. He didn't insult Allen; he didn't snort, click his tongue, or berate him. He was silent from the moment they left the studio (where Allen was still awake, but in a float-y, high kind of way) to the taxi (where Allen immediately fell on Kanda's lap and dozed off) to the stairs down the subway (where Allen wrapped his two arms around Kanda's arm) to the line waiting for the door to open (where Allen was still plastered to Kanda's side). Kanda knew that Allen was beyond exhausted. He knew how tired Allen was, how he struggled to just stay awake.

Finally, the train arrived and people began entering. And as was the normal situation during rush hours in New York subways, there was nowhere left to sit on the train. Kanda had to hold on to a handrail while a sleeping Allen held on to his arm.

The train lurched forward and Allen jerked awake from the impetus, almost ripping Kanda's arm off. "Hmm?" he said, looking around. "Where are we?"

"Train," Kanda replied, shaking Allen off his hurting arm. "Go back to sleep."

And so Allen did. But before he could grab Kanda's arm, Kanda wound his left arm around Allen, resting his hand on Allen's hip. "Go to sleep," he repeated without looking at him.

Allen looked up at Kanda, stoic-faced as ever. He smiled, and then hugged Kanda sideways.

Allen, amazingly, drifted off while standing. Kanda didn't know how worn out the bean sprout was, but it was enough to make him focus his attention to the man glued to his side rather than the tittering ladies sitting in front of them.

They were _not_ cute, no matter what those ladies said.

Kanda bit his lip. With both of them busy and overworked, he might as well forget that that his birthday was tomorrow and treat it as a regular day. How could they even celebrate when their bodies were demanding sleep?

 

\--

 

After a while, the train began to empty and they were finally able to sit down. This time, Allen laid his head on Kanda's shoulder, his arms wrapped around his own knapsack, and then promptly went back to sleep. Kanda took a music score out of his bag and began studying it.

The people in the train thinned out, and two stations later, no one was standing anymore. This left Kanda and Allen in full view of the commuters sitting opposite them, and just as luck would have it, Kanda knew those people—they were from an orchestra that Kanda had conducted.

"…Kanda?" one of them said.

Upon hearing his name, he looked up and barely concealed the surprise on his face when he saw his former workmates from the orchestra.

"Huh, it really is Kanda," the one who called him earlier—a clarinettist—said.

Kanda cluck his tongue. "Who else would I be?"

The clarinettist was with an oboist and cellist. The oboist was sitting in the middle of the clarinettist and cellist, and the three of them were laughing at something on the oboist's phone when the clarinettist spotted Kanda.

"What are you doing here?" the cellist asked.

"Riding the train," Kanda said. The _obviously_ was unsaid but definitely heard.

The clarinettist snorted, and the oboist chuckled and said, "It really is Kanda."

"How's the graduation concert going?" asked the oboist.

"Fine," was Kanda's terse reply. It was true. The rehearsals were mostly fine. His sleeping schedule, however, wasn't.

Then, the three of them registered for the first time the sight in front of them—there was a guy sleeping beside Kanda, his head on Kanda's shoulder, face obscured by snowy hair.

"Is that Allen? He seems positively hammered," the oboist said.

"He's not hammered," Kanda said, "he's tired."

"Aw," the clarinettist cooed. "If I get tired, can I also put my head on your shoulder and sleep?"

"Do that and I'll decapitate you with my baton," Kanda said.

"Wouldn't be the first time you're threatening me with that," the oboist said, snickering.

"I can't imagine you engaging in PDA like that," the cellist said.

"Well, now you can imagine it," the clarinettist said. Then he turned to Kanda and said, "Are you trying to meet your good boyfriend deed quota for the month?"

The three of them laughed and Kanda ignored them for the duration of the ride. He didn't need numbskulls goading him when he's knackered.

A station away from their stop, Kanda woke Allen up.

"Oi, bean sprout," he said, shaking Allen's shoulder, "wake up. We're almost there."

Allen didn't stir.

"Oi," Kanda repeated. "Wake up."

Allen remained unmoving, so Kanda shook him. "Wake. Up."

Still nothing.

Kanda lowered his voice. "Your master discovered where your piggy banks are hidden."

Predictably, Allen shot awake, like a rubber snapping back into place. His body was ram-rod straight, his grip on his knapsack tightened, and his eyes darted wildly in all directions, searching for his master who may or may not be there.

Kanda snorted. To someone who knew him as long as Allen had, it might as well be a chuckle.

Realisation dawned on Allen. They were still on the train and he was asleep just moments ago, so Kanda had to be lying... right?

"You just said that to wake me up, right?" Allen asked, voice laced with the tiniest hint of fear. "Master really doesn't know where I hide my money, right?"

"He doesn't, and he's not here."

 Allen scowled. "You bastard."

"You wouldn't wake up."

"That's not funny, you wanker."

"We're almost there and you wouldn't wake up."

"You could have shaken me."

"I did. You wouldn't wake up." Then Kanda stood up. "Come on. We're here."

Allen followed suit, and as the doors opened, Allen took Kanda's hand in his. "Thank you for letting me sleep," he said, and placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

The doors closed and they disappeared into the distance.

Kanda seemed to have forgotten that his co-workers were just right there and witnessed everything. That, or he didn't care.

He took Allen home and deposited him on the bed and, because he was as drained as Allen was, collapsed next to him. So Kanda went to sleep on the eve of his birthday thinking about spending the next day rehearsing, rehearsing, and rehearsing.

 

==

 

On the morning of his birthday, Kanda woke up at seven, which was late for him because he usually got at four to tend to his plants and then work out, maybe squeeze in a bit of practice. But he was so tired that no one could fault him for sleeping in. Besides, his rehearsal wasn't until this afternoon. He could have climbed out of bed and begun his day, but because Allen was sprawled on top of him, he decided to stay in bed for a little while longer and study a score. Allen could use the extra time to sleep. He'd been practically wilting these past days. They both were.

Sometime later, Allen's alarm blared, and while Allen did wake up, it was only to turn the alarm off—not even snooze it, but to turn it off—and then went back to snuggling Kanda as he dozed off. Allen had to rehearse with the orchestra again today, and while the rehearsal wasn't until ten, it was already half past eight.

Kanda set aside the music score and said, "Don't you have work to do?"

Allen remained plastered to his side, his grip tightening across Kanda's waist.

"There will be people waiting for you, stupid," Kanda said as he stood up. "Get up and take a shower."

Allen did move.

…but only to drag Kanda down to the bed.

"Bean sprout!" Kanda said. "Get up already!"

Kanda tried to sit up but Allen's limbs locked him to the bed. Allen buried his face on Kanda's chest and mumbled, "It's still early. They can survive without me."

"They won't if you're late," Kanda replied. He stopped struggling against Allen and was now absentmindedly playing with his hair, running the white strands through his fingers and feeling just how silky they were.

Allen had been working very hard this past month. He had been overworking himself these past days to the point where he'll fall asleep on the piano. He even missed meals, which, for the glutton that was Allen Walker, was unthinkable.

Kanda thought that his bean sprout could afford to sleep for a little while longer. And Kanda deserved a few minutes of just relaxing. It was his birthday, goddammit.

"Ten more minutes and I'm hauling your ass into the shower," Kanda said.

Allen looked up. Apparently, he was still half-asleep, because he a dopey grin on his face.

"What?" said Kanda.

Allen gave him a peck. "Thank you for taking me home yesterday. I know you're tired too, but you still took the time."

Kanda tucked Allen's hair behind his ear. "Who else would take you home but me?"

Allen kissed his nose. "Happy birthday."

Kanda groaned. They didn't plan anything for his actual birthday so they planned to celebrate after the graduation concert, but it still sucked because for the last three years they'd been together, they always celebrated on June 6th itself no matter how busy they were. But it appeared that they were way too busy this year to celebrate Kanda's birthday on his actual birthday, let alone his birth week.

Allen, however, seemed to have other plans in mind, if his feral grin was anything to go by.

"What are you thinking?" Kanda said warily.

"It's your birthday," Allen's answered as removed his head from Kanda's chest and moved it to his crotch instead.

"Work, bean sprout," Kanda said, trying to make Allen look up at him. "We've both got work to do."

Allen's hands paused on the waistband of Kanda's boxers. "We haven't gotten any proper sleep in the last three weeks. We rarely saw each other. When was the last time we ate together? When was the last time we had sex?"

Kanda's silence was enough of an answer.

Allen straddled Kanda. "Look, darling, we've both been working very hard. We never missed a day of rehearsal. We always study our materials and come in prepared. I might run a bit late today, but I'll be damned if I don't spend some quality time with my boyfriend on his birthday."

The angry set of Allen's eyebrows was enough to convince Kanda to have a little bit of fun. Not to mention having Allen on top of him was more than enough to sway his decision. So he pulled Allen close for a kiss, and seconds later Allen was divesting him of boxers, and suddenly it didn't seem like it was gonna be a bad birthday after all.

 

==

 

Well, maybe it is going to be bad birthday.

Kanda's graduation concert rehearsals usually ended at six p.m. and he's usually back before seven, but rehearsals ran late today and Kanda came home at nine. He gets done earlier than Allen because Kanda couldn't rehearse without an orchestra to conduct, while Allen, being a soloist, chooses to stay late to perfect his performance.

Those three from the train yesterday—the oboist, clarinettist, and cellist—they were friends with some of the musicians in the orchestra he was currently working with, and they told Kanda's orchestra about what they'd seen—Allen's head on Kanda's shoulder, the arm-holding, and the cheek kiss. Kanda got enough ribbing and teasing and the actual practice didn't start until Kanda almost stabbed someone with his baton. Again. It didn't help that the orchestra was off their game—the lack of sleep was catching up on them—and they had to extend their rehearsal to iron out some kinks.

When the rehearsal was finally over, he was expecting to at least pop into a McDonald's or something to have any semblance of a birthday dinner with Allen, but because the orchestra was extra horrible today, they stayed in late, and there went Kanda's plans for a leisurely dinner. What he did do, though, was bring food home. They were takeaway pasta and soba from two different run-of-the-mill shops and were probably not very good, but Allen ate everything, even if the taste wasn't the best.

He stepped inside the flat and was pleasantly surprised to see Allen sitting on the sofa, his head thrown back on the couch's top, eyes closed, short ponytail dangling. His chest was heaving in a regular rhythm and he was hugging a Timcanpy pillow, while the real Timcanpy—a yellow canary—slept in his cage. With Kanda usually home early, a dead-tired Allen wouldn't get home until a few hours later, where he'd greet Kanda with a kiss on the cheek and then head straight to bed. But with their situations reversed on this particular day, Kanda wasn't complaining.

Allen messaged him about being fifteen minutes late that morning. Surprisingly, no one batted an eye; it was as if Allen's commitment to punctuality earned him a few brownie points. Besides, it's not like all of them were punctual anyway.

"Oi," Kanda said, walking over to Allen. "You sleep like that and you'll wake up with a crick in your neck."

Allen didn't stir. Kanda ran his fingers gently on Allen's cheek and said, "Oi, bean sprout, wake up."

Allen groaned, then scrunched his eyes before opening them. With bleary eyes he looked at Kanda and asked, "What time is it?"

Kanda plopped down beside him and placed a large bag of food on the coffee table. "Time for dinner."

Allen grumbled and hid his face on Kanda's shoulder.

"Don't go back to sleep," Kanda said, but didn't do anything to remove Allen from his side.

"Just a few more minutes," Allen replied, snuggling closer.

Kanda cluck his tongue. "Three minutes and I'm eating without you."

Allen muttered an unintelligible reply.

"What time did you get home?"

"Just now. We had a really good run-through of the entire piece so the orchestra was in high spirits and played again it da capo. Why are you later than usual today?"

Kanda groaned. "The orchestra was horrible today. Do you wanna go to sleep now?"

"Not this time, no. It's your birthday. I want to eat dinner with you."

Kanda kissed the top of Allen's head and relished just being there with him, taking that brief moment to rest his eyes and just breathe. He was glad that Allen had a better day than him. Hell of a good morning aside, this birthday was already shaping up to be one of his least favourites, but just being there with Allen after three weeks of only passing by each other in their own flat was already a welcome respite.

When three minutes passed, Kanda shook Allen off his shoulder. "Dinner, bean sprout."

Allen opened his eyes, rubbed them, and placed his head back on Kanda's shoulder. "What are we having?"

"You're having pasta and garlic bread." Kanda replied, jerking his head towards the bag. "I'm having soba."

Allen snickered. "Of course you would. Do you mind if I take a bath first?"

"Do as you wish."

Allen stood up and stretched. Then he turned to Kanda with a lazy grin and said, "You can join me if you want."

Kanda rolled his eyes. "I'm hungry. For actual food. So get on with your bath so we can eat."

Allen walked towards the bathroom, but before he closed the door, he called, "The offer still stands!"

 

==

 

Kanda was really, really hungry, so when thirty minutes had passed and Allen still wasn't out of the bathroom, Kanda went to see what was taking him so long.

Unsurprisingly, Allen fell asleep.

Kanda was leaning on the door jamb with his arms crossed, scowling at the bean sprout relaxing on the bathtub. "You stay in there any longer and you'll get pruney hands to match your old man hair."

Allen's eyes slowly opened, and when his gazed landed on Kanda, his mouth formed a small smile. "Thought about joining me?"

Kanda snorted. "You've been in there for half an hour. Get out and eat dinner."

"Aw, would you be lonely if you ate dinner alone?"

Kanda cluck his tongue then stepped towards the bathtub and hauled Allen out of the tub, but Allen clung to the edges.

"I'll be there in a minute," Allen said. "Set the table."

Kanda frowned but released him nonetheless.

"Kanda," Allen said.

"What?" he said irritably. He was already closing the door.

"Come here."

Kanda did as he was told. He knelt by the tub and felt wet, pruney fingers caressing his face.

"Old man fingers," Kanda muttered.

Allen chuckled and kissed him on the forehead, the nose, his eyelids, both his cheeks. "I'm almost done here." Finally, a quick kiss on the lips.

"Don't fall asleep again," Kanda murmured against his lips.

"I won't," Allen with a sleepy smile. "Now go."

So Kanda stood up and went to the kitchen.

 

\--

 

Some minutes later, Allen came out of the bathroom dressed in comfortable pyjamas and Kanda's shirt, which was almost two times his size. It was too big for his lanky frame, but he loved Kanda's shirts because not only did it smell like him, they were hella comfortable too.

He found Kanda fixing their plates on the counter. There was soba for Kanda, and for Allen, a veritable mountain of carbonara with pieces of garlic bread on the side.

"Smells good," Allen said, wrapping his arms around Kanda's waist and hooking his chin over the other's shoulder. Kanda wasn't that much taller than him, but still, he was taller, so he had to stand on his tiptoes to see properly over Kanda's shoulder.

"This enough for you?" Kanda asked as he put the takeaway pasta on a plate.

"Hmm," Allen said. "Where'd you buy all these?"

"Some no-name shop I passed by. Now let me go so I can put these on the table."

Allen released him and took a small package from his pocket and held it out to Kanda. "Happy birthday."

Kanda looked askance at the package. "I thought I told you not to get me anything."

"It's nothing expensive," Allen said, placing the package on Kanda's hands. "Come on, open it."

Kanda unwrapped the package. Cushioned in a small cardboard box was a pair of ear cuff earrings. The earrings were about an inch in length and half an inch in width. Their lower and upper edges—or left and ride sides, depending on how one looks at them—as well as an oblong-shaped bump in the centre were a rusty red, while the rest was coloured black.

"Where'd you get these?" Kanda asked, holding up an earring and inspecting it.

"The dollar store," replied Allen. He took the earring Kanda was holding, and as he placed it on the other's left ear, he said, "You put it here, on the cartilage."

"Dollar store my ass," Kanda said, touching the earring. "Where'd you really get these?"

 "Somewhere," Allen said, taking the other earring from the box. "It's not expensive, really. Hardly made a dent in my savings."

Kanda raised an eyebrow, and then Allen put the other earring on his own left ear. He grinned and said, "See? Matching earrings."

"I thought they were for me."

"One is. The other one's for me. Now set the table because I'm famished."

Allen sat down and Kanda placed a plate in front of him, and Allen thanked him with a kiss on the cheek.

"You're more touchy-feely than usual," Kanda said once he sat down.

Allen, twirling some pasta with his fork, sighed, and then said in a small voice, "I just missed you."

Kanda stared at him for a few moments before setting his chopsticks aside. With just those words, the stress of those three weeks of basically not seeing each other came crashing down. He was supposed to have fun and take it easy on his birthday, and while he did have fun this morning, the rehearsal was shit, and Kanda forgot that it was his birthday in the first place. He glumly made it back home with takeaway, and seeing Allen already there in their flat exhausted but still willing to have dinner with him lifted his mood instantaneously, making him realise just how much they needed this time together.

"I missed you too," Kanda said as looked at Allen straight in the eye.

Maybe it's because Kanda rarely said such things, or maybe it's because he said that statement in a voice that threatened to crack, or maybe it's because of that soft look in his eyes, but Allen could feel the tears coming out of his eyes. They might be living together, but these past weeks, they were more like housemates instead of boyfriends. And not only that, but with Kanda graduating from conducting, he'll be leaving the uni for good, while Allen will be staying behind for further studies. Those weeks were just an appetiser for what they'll face once Kanda starts to work and Allen remains in uni.

And maybe it wasn't just the stress of graduation rehearsals catching up on him but also the realisation that his daily lunches with Kanda will be gone, but Allen couldn't be blamed when he started crying. "Sorry," Allen said, wiping his eyes. "I just missed you. I _will_ miss you."

Kanda sighed at the implication. It's not just _I missed you because I hardly see you these days_ but also _I will miss you because you're essentially leaving me_. He reached across the table and took Allen's hands in his. He kissed each knuckle and then said, "I'm graduating from university. We still live in the same place."

"I know. But look at us now. This is the first time in three weeks that I've talked to you for more than ten minutes. It wasn't this bad when you were the one graduating two years ago. And I'm not saying that we won't make it work because we bloody will, but we can't be like this again, darling. I can't. I won't."

"Then we won't. We'll make time for each other every day."

"Easier said than done, but we'll manage, won't we?"

Kanda gave him a _duh_ look. "I can't promise you that we'll see each other every day, but I can promise that I'm not leaving you."

Allen smiled, clasped Kanda's hands, and brought them to his lips. "I know you won't."

And Kanda wouldn't, Allen knew that. Kanda was a man of his words. He might be an asshole to everyone—Allen included—but he always fulfilled his promises.

And this promise, Allen knew, was something Kanda would never break.

Somehow, the sting of his beloved's graduation and eventual absence from the university hurt a little less.

"Happy birthday, darling," Allen said.

It may not be the celebration that Kanda had been wanting—that stupid rabbit and his girlfriend will undoubtedly insinuate themselves in whatever he'd been planning—but he got to spend time with Allen, so it was indeed a happy birthday, all things considered.

"Eat," Kanda said. "I have plans for you later."

A coquettish smile showed on Allen's face. "Oh? I thought you didn't have time to plan anything?"

"It's my birthday. I can do what I want. And what I want to do is you."

Allen threw his head back and laughed, his mirth shaking his body. "I can't believe you just said that with a straight face."

Kanda snorted.

Allen smirked. "But I look forward to it."

Tomorrow, they'll go back to their busy lives, but tonight, they're gonna enjoy themselves.

It wasn't a bad birthday after all.

**Author's Note:**

> The mentioned rings were those communicator earring thing they had in the 2016 anime
> 
> If this fic seems disjointed... it's because it is. This fic was a bunch of drabbles that I had to Frankenstein into one fic. I tried to add a semblance of coherence, just a bit of it, but I guess this was all I can do ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> ALSO the clarinettist, oboist, and cellist were supposed to be temporary placeholders but I never got around to naming them...
> 
> The flow of this fic is atrocious and things were all over the place, and like I said, I know nothing about classical music. Hit me with your concrits. Crush my soul. I am so ready for them. Ha ha... ha... ha... ._.
> 
> Aaaaaaaaaaand happy birthday, Kanda!


End file.
